Too Rich and Too Dead (11 page)

Silently Mallory thanked Astrid for putting her up at the Jerome, rather than Tavaci Springs. Cleansing the mind was one thing. Doing the same for any of her other body parts was something else entirely.

“The spiritual element is primarily developed through the appreciation of nature.” The almost robotic way in which Harriet spoke made it clear that she'd given this little spiel once or twice before. “To take advantage of Tavaci Springs's surroundings—the spectacular mountains and forests, of course, but also the gorgeous sunsets and, at night, the moon and the sky filled with stars—a lot of the lectures and classes are held outside on the patio. We call it The Ledge.”

“What about the occupational element?” Mallory asked, wondering if basket weaving was part of the Tavaci Springs regimen.

“Carly believes that rewarding work is vital for staying young,” Harriet replied. “So guests at Tavaci Springs help maintain the facility.”

“You mean like doing dishes?”

Harriet chuckled. “Not quite, but you're not that far off, either. Gathering wood in the forest for the fireplace is big. So is food preparation, but I'm talking about really basic stuff like shucking oysters and shelling peas. Basically, we engage guests in activities that bring them closer to the natural foods they'll be eating and the processes involved in preparing them.”

Keeps down the overhead, too, Mallory thought. That Carly was one crafty lady.

She thought she was being punished for thinking ill of the dead when her shoulder suddenly rammed against the car door. But she saw that Harriet had merely made a sharp turn onto a poorly maintained dirt road.

They drove only a few hundred yards before lurching to a halt.

“Is there a problem with the car?” Mallory asked, alarmed. She pictured herself hiking down the horrendously steep mountain road that had almost proved too much for Harriet's aging vehicle. And going down was guaranteed to be even more terrifying than going up.

“We're here,” Harriet replied with a shrug.

Sure enough, after trudging behind Harriet a short distance, Mallory spotted a series of low wooden buildings nestled against the mountainside. The largest one, closest to the path, looked more like a hunting lodge than a luxury resort. In fact, she decided it was a classic example of the “Let's go shoot something furry and four-legged” architectural style.

When Harriet tried the door and found it locked, she pulled a tremendous set of keys out of her purse. She switched on a light as the two of them walked inside, the echo of their footsteps an indication that they had the place to themselves.

Given the rugged exterior, Mallory wasn't surprised that the interior also looked like something Teddy Roosevelt had designed. The walls were rough-hewn knotty pine and the lighting fixtures were made from the horns of some large, macho, elk-or mooselike animal. A huge stone fireplace dominated one wall. The seating was also made of crude-looking wood, big chairs and wide-legged tables with surfaces so rough she wondered if the Tavaci Springs guests suffered from chronic splinters.

“This is the reception area,” Harriet informed her. “There's no front desk, since when guests first come in, they don't wait in line or fill out forms. In fact, they don't have to check in at all, since they've all made reservations in advance.

“Instead, when they arrive, they sit down and make themselves comfortable while a staff member comes over to them with a mug filled with a steaming hot beverage made with Rejuva-Juice. The staff member, called a Nurturer, explains the Lifestyle Policies and tells them about the daily schedule. Each guest is also given a big box that's wrapped up like a present. Inside they find a few gift items designed to make their stay more enjoyable and more productive. Things like a fluffy bathrobe, rubber flip-flops, scented candles, and small bottles of special
oils and lotions containing some of the same ingredients as Rejuva-Juice.”

“Carly was certainly a wizard when it came to making guests feel important,” Mallory commented.

“Definitely,” Harriet agreed. “No matter what her personal failings may have been, no one can deny that when it came to running a business, Carly was a genius.”

Mallory was suddenly overcome with a tremendous wave of sadness, perhaps because she was seeing firsthand what a wonderful place Carly had built.

Harriet must have felt it, too, because all of a sudden she gripped Mallory's arm and cried, “Oh, my God! I can't believe she's gone!”

“I know, I know,” Mallory said, awkwardly patting her on the back. “It's such a tragedy. We're all in shock.”

“I'm sorry,” Harriet said, pulling herself away. “It's just that this is all so sudden. So unexpected! I never thought Carly would just disappear like this!”

Disappear? Mallory thought. Harriet makes it sound as if she suddenly decided to fly off to Gordon's house in L.A. for dessert and coffee.

“Do you think the police will find her killer?” Harriet's voice sounded soft and high-pitched, like a little girl's. “I mean, they will find the person who murdered her, won't they?”

“I'm sure they will,” Mallory assured her. “I know how hard the police work on a case like this. In fact, I ran into something similar just a few months ago.”

Harriet blinked. “You did?”

Mallory instantly regretted having brought up her past experiences with homicide. But now that she had, she had no choice but to fill her new friend in on the details. At least, a select few of them.

“I was on a press trip in Orlando, Florida, back in January and someone was murdered,” she told her. “I ended up—well, let's just say that while the police worked on the case day and night, I did a little investigating of my own.”

“Did you find the killer?” Harriet asked breathlessly. “I mean you
personally?”

Mallory thought for a few seconds, trying to come up with a diplomatic answer. “I suppose I played a small role in seeing that justice was served.”

“Wow.” Harriet was silent for a long time. “I had no idea you'd ever done anything like that. You don't exactly seem like the type—”

“Why don't you show me the rest of Tavaci Springs?” Mallory interrupted. “Since we came all this way. Besides, you said yourself that it might be my only chance to see the place. And to see what all the fuss was about.”

“Okay,” Harriet said, sniffing. She swiped at her nose with the back of her hand, a gesture that immediately made Mallory think of Jordan. It also reminded her that like her son, this woman didn't yet have a lot of living under her belt.

Harriet squared her shoulders as she led the way through a doorway off to one side of the reception area. “This is the dining room,” she announced.
With a wan smile, she added, “Carly insisted that we refer to it as the Digestorium. I still haven't decided whether that one was a bit over the top.”

“Definitely over the top,” Mallory said, laughing. “Still, you can't help being impressed by Carly's creativity.”

Peeking inside, she saw a cavernous room with windows on three sides. Like the furniture in the lobby, the tables and chairs were crafted from crude pieces of wood. Yet she spotted at least a few nods to the traditional definition of luxury. White linen tablecloths graced the tables, each of which was decorated with white candles and a clear glass vase filled with fresh white blossoms. She was relieved that staying young didn't require a
completely
Spartan lifestyle.

“Beautiful,” she commented.

“Now I'll show you the spa,” Harriet said, leading the way toward the French doors at the far end of the lobby. “Tavaci Springs offers two types of treatments: tranquilizing and energizing. Tranquilizing treatments are geared toward making guests look young, while energizing treatments make them
feel
young. The spa offers the usual treatments, too. You know, like facials and massages and body wraps. But they all use Rejuva-Juice's rejuvenating ingredients.”

By that point, they had left the main building. They headed toward the back of the property, walking along a path made of uneven-edged squares of slate and bordered with beds of colorful wildflowers. Mallory stretched her neck to get a better look at
the mountains. As she did, the sun warmed her face. All around her, the only sound was the cheerful chirping of the birds flitting through the trees. The place was so appealing, in fact, that she was beginning to think a stay here was worth the hefty price tag.

But her mood shifted as soon as they crossed a small wooden bridge that arched over a soothing reflecting pool. To her left, Mallory spotted a small, rustic building, more of a hut than anything else.

She knew immediately that it had to be the Mud Hut. If the building didn't look exactly the way she would have expected one called “the Mud Hut” to look, bright yellow plastic strips that cordoned it off from the rest of the property emblazoned with the words “Crime Scene. Do Not Cross” took away any lingering doubts.

Mallory stopped dead in her tracks. In a choked voice, she asked, “Is this where—”

“That's right,” Harriet answered quickly.

“Oh, Harriet, it must have been so awful for you!” Mallory cried. “I know how fond you were of Carly. And to be the one who found her—”

“Mallory, I know you mean well,” Harriet said, her tone strained. “But if you don't mind, I'd rather not talk about it.”

“Of course,” Mallory said quickly. “We should probably go see the rest of the spa facilities.”

As they walked past the Mud Hut, Mallory tried not to look at it. She noticed that that was what Harriet was doing. But she couldn't keep her eyes off it. It was the same experience she had whenever she
drove by a car accident. There was something about a place in which something terrible had happened that made it impossible to ignore.

She was relieved when they reached the much larger wooden building at the end of the walkway.

“This is the spa,” Harriet announced as she punched a code into a keypad. Since Mallory was standing right next to her, she couldn't help noticing how simple it was: 5–5–2–2.

“Wow!” Mallory exclaimed the moment she stepped inside. While the building's exterior reflected the same rustic architectural style as the rest of the place, the interior was an elegant mélange of wood, glass, and iridescent tile. The facility was outfitted with every possible indulgence: steam rooms, saunas, showers, and small, private rooms where those rejuvenating treatments Mallory had read about were undoubtedly performed. The entire back wall was made of glass, bringing the jaw-dropping mountain views inside. In fact, a large hot tub, sunken into the floor and surrounded by tiles in earth tones, was positioned in just the right spot for a nearly three-hundred-sixty-degree panorama.

“Well, it looks as if everything is fine,” Harriet concluded with a little shrug. “I'll call Daisy later. But since we're here, if you don't mind, I need to stop into my office for a minute.”

“No problem.”

As they walked down another hallway, entering a part of the building Mallory hadn't noticed before, she casually asked, “What about you, Harriet? How did you get interested in the health field?” Once
again, Mallory was at a loss as to how to refer to the rejuvenation biz. But using the word “health” struck her as close enough. “After all, you're an accountant. You could probably work in any industry you wanted.”

“That's true,” Harriet agreed. “My background with numbers does give me a lot of flexibility. But I guess I was attracted to Carly's business because of my childhood experiences with bad health. When I was little, I contracted polio.”

Mallory frowned. “I thought polio had been wiped out, thanks to the vaccine.”

“Actually, the last case of polio that wasn't caused by someone reacting to the vaccine occurred in 1979,” Harriet explained patiently.

“But you don't show any signs of having had the illness,” Mallory observed.

“I was one of the lucky ones,” Harriet said with a little shrug. “I pretty much had a complete return to normal function. The only negative effect it's had in the long run is fatigue. I get tired a lot more easily than most people. In fact, there have been studies linking the kind of damage to the brain stem that polio causes with the kind that causes chronic fatigue syndrome.

“But I had a taste of what it means to be debilitated—and I had to confront the possibility of living with paralysis the rest of my life,” she continued, her voice strained. “Anyway, I think that's the root of my interest in the health field. Staying young is part of staying healthy, which is why I find the whole concept of Rejuva-Juice so intriguing.”

Mallory nodded. So Harriet's interest in Carly's business was about more than dollars and cents. She also had a strong emotional investment in what Rejuva-Juice could do for people.

Which undoubtedly made the loss she had just experienced even more devastating.

They had reached the back hallway of the spa, the area in which the offices were tucked away. As they walked through, Mallory couldn't help peering through the open doors into the various offices. The first one was undoubtedly Carly's. It was tastefully decorated in beige and soft shades of pink, with large windows on two of the walls that afforded fabulous views. A colorful bouquet of flowers, still fresh, sat on a low table behind the imposing wooden desk.

The next office had views that were just as spectacular, but it was slightly smaller. Because it was decorated in masculine browns, Mallory suspected that it belonged to Brett. The fact that it had no file cabinets, no papers, not even a paper clip, led her to wonder if he ever used it for anything besides ordering Colorado wines and snatching one-of-a-kind lobsters away from the French.

The office that was Harriet's last stop was way in back. The view from its single window was of the rock garden. Still pleasant, but not even close to being in the same league as the view enjoyed by her employers. It was also decorated like any ordinary office, with nondescript metal furniture, an ancient-looking computer, and more than its share of both papers and paper clips strewn about.

Mallory waited in the hallway politely while Harriet bustled around inside for a few minutes. When she had finished whatever she'd come in for, she closed the door behind her.